


(Im)Perfection

by IAmANonnieMouse



Category: London Spy
Genre: Abstract, Alex POV, M/M, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/pseuds/IAmANonnieMouse
Summary: Perfect numbers, perfect patterns, perfect suits, perfect ties. Alex could die from the monotony (curse) that is perfection.And then there is Danny. Danny and his windblown hair and his jagged smile and his sloppy stride. He’s so imperfect it makes Alex ache.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started out much different in my head, but then it took me two days to actually sit down and write it because Real Life got in the way, so it has ended up ... not quite how I had originally intended. Oops.
> 
> Unbeta'd, so there's probably a typo or two somewhere. They always manage to elude me.

It’s nothing more than a way of life, really. Perfect numbers, perfect patterns, perfect suits, perfect ties. Alex could die from the monotony (curse) that is perfection. 

And then there is Danny. Danny and his windblown hair and his jagged smile and his sloppy stride. He’s so imperfect it makes Alex ache.

Danny doesn’t notice. He doesn’t care about patterns and numbers and rhythms. He focuses on the here and now, about the words people say and the things people do and everything that Alex has never been able to learn (to understand).

But he catches so much. He catches when Alex is filled with discomfort and jangled nerves because something isn’t where it should be. He catches when Alex is so lost inside his own head that he thinks he’ll never find a way back out.

He catches when Alex _needs_ so deeply that it seems impossible to be lost like this, when Alex fears what he doesn’t quite understand but craves it more than the air he breathes.

There is Danny. So gorgeously imperfect, more vibrant and _real_ than anything Alex has ever known. Being with him, knowing him, it’s as fragile as glass, like cradling a butterfly in your hands. Alex is sometimes afraid to move (to blink, to breathe) and risk scaring (destroying) him.

Before Danny, Alex’s life was perfect (colorless).

Now, it’s socks strewn across the floor, overcooked bacon in the mornings, sloppy half-kisses in the early dawn, crooked ties as he leaves for work.

It’s irregular sequences, broken rules, quiet disobedience. It’s so imperfect it makes Alex ache.

There is Danny. So sloppy, so carefree, sprawled across the sheets, the work of an Old Master, alive in his bed. There is Danny. Blinking awake in the light of the morning, mouth curling.

“Hi,” he murmurs, voice breaking through the steady noise surrounding them. The cars outside, the water pipes below. 

His hair is sticking up at all angles, his eyelids are fluttering, his breath has gone sour in the night. 

Alex aches.

“Hello,” he says. He leans in, presses his lips against Danny’s. It’s rough and dry and short, and Danny looks like he’s about to fall back asleep again, and Alex wants to curl up into his warmth and fall back asleep with him, and it’s more perfect than anything Alex could ever have wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [Tumblr.](http://iamanonniemouse.tumblr.com/)


End file.
